Page 17 of Smooth Sailing

“Diana—”

“You did, but what’s your hourly with a client like Babic? Four hundred? Five?”

Abruptly, he leaned forward, resting his weight into his hands on his desk, the move so sudden, I jumped.

“Can’t you see you’ve put yourself in danger?” he whispered, unease in his gaze.

I ignored the unease, as I’d been ignoring it since Suzette moved in with me a week ago.

Instead, I stood and assumed the same position so we were eye to eye. “Can’t you see I’m the only safe place she’s got? That man is a psychopath, but he’s not going to kill his own attorney’s daughter in order to get to the woman he viciously assaulted.”

“You don’t know what he’ll do.”

“I’m laying odds.”

“This is messy, the accuser of my client living with my daughter.”

“I’m afraid I fail to see how that concerns me.”

“If you want to punish me, there are other ways to do it. Say, cutting me out of your life for ten years. I can report, that worked quite well.”

“Sorry, Dad. This isn’t about you. It’s about Suzette.”

He shook his head. “Don’t think I’ll fall for that nonsense. You’ve got your mother in you.”

God, sometimes I wished I was a violent person.

In considering that, how bad was it to slap someone? Was that like, level three violent? Or more level five?

I was pretty sure I could do a three. I wasn’t so sure I could live with five.

“Diana!” he snapped, straightening from the desk.

“I live in a high rise. We have security. What, are his men going to storm the building?”

“You don’t mess with a man like Babic.”

“I have seen the pictures, so that isn’t lost on me.”

He took in a deep breath that expanded his wide chest, and I noted he looked good, as always. His dark hair was turning a glinting silver, not gray or white, and it was attractive. He’d always kept fit, getting up early to hit the home gym or the one at the office to put in at least a solid forty-five minutes of cardio and strength training. It was noticeable he hadn’t changed that habit.

I wondered, though, if he got Botox, because without the silver in his hair, he looked to be a man in his early forties, tops, not late fifties, which he was.

“I didn’t handle that situation well,” he announced. “The one on campus. I see that now. I was thinking like a man of my generation. What we’d been taught and what I knew women had been taught in terms of how to look out for themselves. I didn’t consider that line of thinking was not only outdated, but wrong.”

I didn’t know what to say to that.

“And I’d like to have a relationship with my daughter,” he finished.

I knew what to say to that.

“Well, if we’re entering negotiations, drop Babic as a client, make sure no one in your firm picks him up, and maybe use some of the influence you’ve spent decades amassing to make it difficult for him to find someone in the legal community that would help him out.”

He shook his head. “It doesn’t work like that, Diana. Even if I withdrew, it’s my duty to protect a client’s interests. I’d have to recommend new counsel and advise them on the case.”

“So that takes our short negotiations to a close,” I muttered.

“I’m proud of you,” he announced, apropos of nothing. “You got your degree. You took that further. You did it on your own, which I’m sure was difficult. I have friends who have gone to you for conservation work. They say you’re talented.”

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